


Don't Think So Much

by allnightstarrynight



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Gen, donald suffers tbh, it goes from brief flashback back to reality, more of a character analysis ??, wow all i can write is angst i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 03:32:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15921995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allnightstarrynight/pseuds/allnightstarrynight
Summary: It isn't easy being a single parent.It's especially difficult when you're actually the uncle and your twin sister is missing.Donald reflects on when Della first announced that she was pregnant and fondly remembers time the two spent with one another as children. Despite her disappearance, he wouldn't trade those sweet boys for anything.





	Don't Think So Much

Donald would never, _ever_ tell the triplets how their mother had cried upon discovering her unplanned pregnancy. It was 1:30 A.M. when Della Duck drove to her twin’s house and rapped anxiously on the door. Donald, unaware of who could possibly be up and wanting his attention at such an ungodly hour, was past the point of irritation as he threw open the door, face aflame with anger. He was about to let out a disgruntled _**WHAT**_ , but the harsh approach died on his tongue with the moment he saw his sister face; tear streaked, pink and blotchy, eyes dancing with uncertainty and fear.

This was not his sibling. Della was never one to be afraid. Immediately, Donald’s face crumbled and he wrapped his arms around the other, almost dragging her inside the house. He let her cry on his shoulder until finally her shoulders stopped quaking and the flood of tears began to cease. She pulled away and let her brother fondly wipe the wetness from her cheeks. Donald wanted to say something- to ask what happened, to offer any help he could- but he didn’t dare say a word. It was Della who spoke first, taking deep and labored breaths through her beak.

“I’m pregnant.”

He sat her on the couch and they talked until four or five in the morning. She didn’t know who the father was; she was not one to offer herself to just anyone, but she travelled country to country in her plane, going adventuring and exploring. She allowed herself to get too close to one man and a few weeks later slept with him. The next morning, he was gone.

Vanished.

Disappeared as if he had never existed in the first place. She had an alias as his name and a disconnected number as a way to “contact” him. A few mornings after, she found herself staring into the swirling water of a toilet bowl, throwing up the little remnants of last night’s meal.

Her period was late. So, she waited another month. Just to be safe.

It still didn’t come.

She bought a cheap pregnancy test as a local convenience store.

It came up positive, but she knew it was wrong. The stupid thing was barely three dollars, it would probably tell a glass of water that it was expecting.

She bought a better, higher priced one the next day.

That, too, read positive.

Feeling her stomach flip, she got in her car and sped to the one place she knew she was always welcome, the one place that wasn’t just a house but also a home whenever she needed it most. She drove to see her twin brother, Donald. As assumed, he greeted her with open arms and spoke with no tone of belittlement. That almost made her cry harder.

Della had explained the entirety to him as he merely sat across from her, listening intently and offering a nod or gentle squeeze of her hand. Finally, after her piece was said and she sat, body shaking from the dreaded unknown, Donald stroked the top of her hand with this thumb and whispered, ever so gingerly, “You’re not alone.”

She met his gaze and bit anxiously at her lower lip. Donald tried offering her a lopsided smile and patted her hand once more.

“You’ve got me, and Gladstone, and Fethry. Hell, I bet even old Uncle Scrooge would help. Begrudgingly, maybe, but you and I know he’ll fall in love with that baby the first moment he lays eyes on ‘em.”

“What if it’s twins?” Della asked slowly. “That runs in the family. Obviously.” She weakly smiled.

Donald grinned in earnest. “Then they’ll be double trouble. At least you won’t be alone.” He tossed a grin her way. “Sound like any other mischievous ducklings you may know?” He nudged his sister and managed to get a small chuckle from her. She rolled her eyes and playfully punched Don on the arm as she shook her head, feathers ruffling.

“Yeah, well- hopefully they’ll have your wit.”

“But not my temper?”

That made them both laugh. Della had stayed with Donald that night and woke up to the smell of pancakes and eggs and bacon. She wondered if there was a better brother out there in the entire world and seriously doubted it.

 

* * *

 

 

Donald’s mind spun as he remembered how that had been an entire ten years ago. A whole decade. The years were slipping through his fingers and it forced a heavy rock to settle uneasily in his gut. It was times like this that it was the worst, when he had this time to himself to just wander through the vast and huge monster that was the McDuck mansion which, Donald thought, he now dared to call home - again.

He found himself stumbling into his uncle’s old archives and told himself it was by pure accident as he shoved his way into the entrance, making sure the door was not only closed but also locked behind him. It took him little time to find pictures of Della and, he saw as moisted gathered in the corners of his eyes, her model airplane.

One hand went to cover his mouth as the other shakily grabbed the old toy. He remembered it well; how could he not? It was Della’s absolute favorite. He recalled the little boat he played with as Della tossed her plane into the air, whooping and hollering as she watched it soar through the air for a few meager seconds.

 

* * *

 

“Don, Don, look! Did you see how high it went? Did ‘ya? Man, I can’t wait until I’m a pilot, then I’m gonna fly that high. Maybe even _higher_!”

Donald sat at the edge of a narrow yet deep riverbed, legs settled beneath him. He rocked his boat back and forth, careful not to let it go as he watched the waves lick tenderly up the sides. He let the water splash across his hands and welcomed the easy feeling it left him with.

“As long as you’re careful, okay? Planes crash all the time. You better not be in one that does.”

“Donnie, please. I’m gonna be way too good of a pilot to let my baby go down. Geez, you’re so overprotective. Have I ever told you that?”

“I am not!” He snatched his boat from the water and turned his attention to his sister so he could shoot her a proper glare. Della giggled and stuck out her tongue, tucking her airplane under her armpit.

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

With a growl of frustration Donald leaped upwards and tackled his sister to the ground. They rolled around for a bit in a harmless wrestling match until they were both laughing so hard their sides hurt and they had to pull apart to catch their breath. “It’s not a bad thing to be overprotective.” Della said after their quarrel, still panting a little and taking a long drink from her juice box. Donald sat beside her under the cooling shade of a willow tree and pulled his knees up to his chest and turned to face towards his sibling.

“That way I know I’m always gonna be safe. I mean, I can handle myself. But you’re, like, my backup! I’m like a karate master, but with a bodyguard. It just makes you a really good brother. That’s all.”

“You think I’m a good brother?” He turned to look at her, face brightening with a smile. Della laughed and offered him a drink from her juice.

“Of course. The best.”

 

* * *

 

Donald more or less shoved the plane back in it’s drawer and closed it, lowering his head and sighing deeply. He was supposed to keep her safe. He was her bodyguard, her overprotective twin who was always supposed to come to her rescue, even when she didn’t need it. A good brother wouldn’t have let her go. If Donald was half the sibling that he wished he was, Della would still be here. She’d be here to watch her beautiful sons grow up and continue to be a thorn in Donald’s side.

But she wasn’t.

And as far as Donald knew, there was no way to change that.

He left Scrooge’s library worse off than when he entered. He shut the heavy oak door with a groan and locked it once more. He almost let the threat of tears run down his cheeks but blinked them away when he heard familiar cackling and pitter patter of webbed feet. His rambunctious nephews and their new ‘honorary adopted sister’ raced past him, almost trampling their uncle in the process, as they chased one another with squirt guns that Donald hoped were filled only with water.

It was Huey that ended up actually smacking into Donald’s leg. The impact sent the younger on his back with a slight oof. He rubbed his tail and looked up at his uncle, eyebrows raising at his expression.

“Uncle Donald?” He asked, standing and retrieving his play toy from the puddle it made on the ground.

“You okay?”

Donald looked down at him and lifted the boy’s hat to ruffle the feathers underneath. He smiled and nodded, placing the hat back on Huey’s disheveled mess of hair. “I’m alright, kiddo. I just probably shouldn’t think so much.”

**Author's Note:**

> eyyyy, Lex here! sorry if there are any continuity or time line errors, this was written way before the season 1 finale. it's mostly headcanon based tbh. i wasn't actually planning on posting it anywhere, but here we are. regardless, i hope everyone enjoyed the little read. kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!


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